


Home is Where the Heart Is

by commander_cullywully



Series: Cullen x Gwyn DA-Verse [5]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Family, Family Reunion, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Light Angst, Romance, famfic, proposal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-21
Updated: 2015-01-30
Packaged: 2018-03-08 12:37:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3209498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/commander_cullywully/pseuds/commander_cullywully
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cullen meets part of the Trevelyan family when Gwyn becomes reunited with them; Gwyn meets Cullen's family when they visit Honnleath; Cullen surprises Gwyn by proposing to her! (Written pre-Trespasser release)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Winter was especially cruel at this time in Skyhold. Fresh snow was falling daily and the temperature dropped more and more as the day drew to a close. Gwyn glanced outside one of her bedroom windows, her eyes staring at the icicles that had formed at the top of the sill as she lounged in what she swore was the most comfortable chair in all of Skyhold. The more she looked at the falling snowflakes that were visible in the night, the colder she got. Pulling the blankets she’d taken from her bed around her, she went back to her “assigned reading” that was given to her by Josephine. Nobles wanting to meet her, wanting them to solve all of their problems as if she hadn’t already had a darkspawn magister to worry about. Every line scrawled in the letters was like studying the history of magic back at the Circle.

            Her thoughts were interrupted when Cullen carefully opened the door, his head poking through as he carried a pile of paperwork with him along with a small cup.

            “No,” Gwyn told him sternly, pointing at the pile he was approaching her with. A smile grew as Cullen leaned down to press his lips to hers in a chaste kiss.

            “Oh, so you don’t want this hot cocoa that I walked all the way down to the kitchens to get just for you?” He asked, smiling against the corner of her mouth. He took a long sip from the cup as Gwyn rolled her eyes.

            “Ha. Ha. Very funny. Hand that over, I’m freezing,” Gwyn shuddered. He placed the warm cup in her hands, watching as she breathed a sigh of relief at the very touch of it. Her face softened as she blew air over the drink and smiled. “Thank you.” He kissed her head before setting his papers down on a nearby table and walking over to the second armor stand she’d had brought up for him once he’d made it a habit to share her room.

            “In all seriousness, please tell me those aren’t for me,” Gwyn groaned, watching the pile of parchment carefully as if it would transform into a monster before her very eyes. Cullen laughed as he began to undo the clasps of his cuirass. “No, seriously—Josephine just gave me a handful of letters from nobles requesting that I attend a banquet of theirs or help them remove spiders from their basement. I only wish I were joking. I hate spiders.” She shivered under her cloak of blanket and Cullen had to hide his smile as he removed his forearm guards.

            “Well, they’re not for you. At least, not yet anyway—I’ve yet to review them,” he sighed as he pulled each layer of material off. Gwyn drank her hot cocoa, a smile creeping over her lips as she watched him undress in her peripherals.

            “Thank the Maker,” she breathed, setting her own pile of parchment down on the table near her and taking another sip of cocoa. “Thank you for this, again. Whatever would I do without you?” Cullen laughed as he pulled on his hide breeches that Gwyn had laid out for him.

            “Well, where do I start,” he grinned as Gwyn swatted him playfully. “There room for me under there?” Gwyn shifted on the loveseat just enough so he could settle beneath her. He let one of his legs dangle off the edge of the chair as Gwyn settled between his legs and rested her head on his chest. He pulled his paperwork in front of them, a tight line on his face as he began reading. His free hand pulled the tie that held Gwyn’s hair in a ponytail out and ran through the locks until the reports were left on the table next to hers, abandoned. His fingers worked at her hair, twisting and knotting until there was a braid trailing over her shoulder. A small breath left her as he nuzzled against her neck and planted a small kiss.

            “Josephine gave me something for you,” he murmured, the thought finally crossing his mind.

            “If it’s more reports, tell her you couldn’t find me,” she smiled, turning her head to meet his lips.

            “I don’t think that excuse works much anymore,” Cullen grinned, leaning forward to retrieve his pile once more. He sifted through the papers until he found a small envelope. “Here.” He handed it to her, his fingers running over the purple wax seal. Gwyn stared at the seal for a few moments, her mouth hanging open. Her body tensed as she sat up, her fingers flipping the envelope over in her hands.

            “Where did you get this?” Her eyes stared at the words emblazoned within the wax.

            “Didn’t you hear me? Josephine gave it to me to give to you; she said it was important. Why? What is it?” He moved to get a better look at her face, to get a better look at the wax seal. _Modest in temper, bold in deed._ He didn’t recognize the saying, whatever it was. Gwyn was frozen, her fingers repeatedly running over the seal.

            “Are you alright?” Cullen touched her shoulders and realized tears were welling in her eyes.

            “It’s my…” she searched for the words, “my family.” She clutched the letter to her chest for a moment before a scratchy laugh left her throat.

            “Your family?” She didn’t talk about her family much. He knew she had had a difficult relationship, or lack thereof, with her mother, and that since she was sent to the Circle, she was largely kept in the dark about the goings-on within the Trevelyans. He knew she had a brother, and maybe even an older sister.

            “It’s from my father or my brother, it has to be. He’s….he and Brennan, they’re the only ones that-” Her voice cracked as she stared at the loopy scrawl on the front of the letter where they had written her name. “I haven’t heard from them since…since the Circle. They were….they were the only ones who wrote. No one could visit, no one could leave—but they…they were the only ones.” Her voice was small, her fingers shaking as she held the parchment.

“Hey-” Cullen turned her around so that she faced him, taking her hands in his. He pressed his forehead to hers, letting his overworked hands massage the palms of her hands. This calmed her down considerably as she let out a deep breath. “This is a good thing, right?” He wasn’t asking, really. It was more of an assurance that he’d thrust out and hoped would stick. Finally, Gwyn opened the envelope and removed the letter. Her forehead still pressed to his, she breathed in and out as her eyes scanned the paper. Every now and then she’d let go of his hand to wipe a tear away until she finished the paper, letting out a sobbing laugh.

“They’re coming here,” she breathed, tears of happiness running down her face. “My father- he wants to see me. He’s coming here.” Cullen’s hands cupped her face as she laughed tearfully. His thumb worked to catch the tears as he pressed a kiss to her face.

“They’re okay?” He asked, a smile on his face. Gwyn nodded, blinking away more tears.

            “They’re okay,” she breathed. That night the couple fell asleep wrapped in each other’s arms, staring out the window at the falling snow.

* * *

 

            It was only days later that Gwyn was being told that her family would be arriving before dusk. She stood in Cullen’s office, her fingers twisting nervously as she paced the room.

            “What if my mother comes?” She wondered, glancing over at Cullen. She’d been pacing in their room all morning only to have followed him to his office, where she continued her display of anxiousness.

            “They’re going to want their daughter to greet them—not some scouts or an unknown delegate,” Cullen murmured, tearing his eyes away from Gwyn. The more she circled his room, the dizzier he got. Gwyn groaned and rested against his desk until he looked up from his work and realized her shoulders were shaking. “Gwyn?” He moved around his desk to take a look at her. There had only been a handful of moments where he had seen her so vulnerable, and this was one of them. Her cheeks were streaked with tears as she fumbled with her hands.

            “I haven’t seen my family since I was nine years old, Cullen,” she said softly. Her hands trembled until Cullen finally took them in his own, his thumb running over the material covering the palm of her left hand. She’d wrapped the anchor up this morning, knowing her family would have mixed feelings if they saw it. Gwyn took a breath, her eyes closed, “I haven’t heard their voices…haven’t touched them. I don’t—my brother, I don’t even know what he looks like now. My sister? I don’t…I barely remember her. She was close with my mother, and I…” The thought was left hanging in the air as Gwyn bit her lip. Cullen’s fingers interlocked with hers, his thumb working to relieve the tension in her hands.

“Hey,” he murmured. His right hand lifted her chin, her blue eyes blinking away tears as they leveled with his. “If you want me to, I will be there with you every step of the way. Chances are, they’re just as nervous as you are.” He pulled her left hand to his lips, kissing the material covering her mark as well as the exposed skin on each finger. Eventually, Gwyn nodded her head and rested it against him. The smell of leather, mint, and parchment filled her senses as Cullen wrapped his arms around her.

The longer the two stood in silence, the more relaxed Gwyn had become. She had stopped fidgeting with her hands; her shoulders had become less tense. It was only when Josephine entered to announce that a carriage brandishing the Trevelyan sigil was approaching Skyhold that Gwyn’s face contorted in panic. Immediately Cullen’s hand reached for hers, squeezing it in support.

“I guess I’m finally meeting your parents, right?” A nervous smile tugged at his lips causing Gwyn’s cheeks to redden.

“I…I hadn’t thought of it like that. I suppose you’re right,” she murmured, squeezing his hands back. She pressed an affectionate kiss to his lips, allowing herself a brief moment of calm. The two walked towards the doors of the main hall together, fingers interwoven until Gwyn froze. The realization that she stood behind the doors that would lead her to her parents was almost too much. Squeezing Cullen’s hand, she glanced up at him.

“Don’t leave me,” she whispered. Cullen kissed her hand before letting go slowly. They had talked about this in the days after receiving the letter—perhaps little steps were required as Gwyn reconnected with her family. It’d been almost eighteen years since she’d seen them, been in the same room as them—he’d argued with her that perhaps introducing a relationship was one of the last things she needed to be worrying about.

“Right behind you. Every step of the way. Promise.” Gwyn’s hand moved towards the handle only to retract and nervously touch the braid Cullen had made for her that morning.

“What if-?” She stammered.

“Stop,” he urged her. “You’re overthinking this far too much. One step at a time…and, if it doesn’t work out- it doesn’t work out.”

When the door opened and Gwyn watched as the carriage rolled to a stop in front of Skyhold’s main staircase, she glanced nervously back at Cullen. Her feet were glued to the steps, torn between running to the carriage and running back to the safety of her quarters. Cullen could see the steps her mind was already taking, the questions she was churning around and trying to ignore. _Why now? Since the Circle in Ostwick fell, why didn’t they try to find me? Do they want something from me? Did they miss me? How much do they remember me?_

The doors to the carriage opened, revealing a young man that resembled Gwyn. He had short brown hair that was slightly slicked back and shorn on the sides, as well as bright blue eyes that might have been a shade lighter than hers. His face softened when his eyes met Gwyn’s, his sharp facial features had made him seem much harsher than he really was, Cullen noticed. There was a familiarity beyond his resemblance to Gwyn in his face that Cullen could not quite place, but these thoughts were interrupted as Gwyn stumbled to take an uncertain step forward.

“Brennan…is that, oh Maker, is that really you?” Her voiced cracked as she struggled with each word until the man nodded tearfully. Cullen noticed that when she ran into his arms, the man was almost a head taller than her.

“We looked….we thought…” Brennan hugged her tightly until he turned to the carriage to help a greying man out. He shared similar features—an angular jawline, the bright blue eyes that graced both Gwyn and Brennan’s faces, freckles peppering his cheekbones. It was Cullen, however, who watched as the man anxiously fidgeted with his hands until Gwyn wrapped her arms around him, sobbing openly. Her father. The longer Cullen watched as Gwyn hugged the two of them and murmur “I love you’s” and “I missed you’s” to each of them, the more he longed for his own family. It had been years since he’d seen them last. Not long ago Mia had written him, cross that he hadn’t taken the time to inform her of his new position. Perhaps when this was over, he would take the time to write her…maybe even tell her about Gwyn.

She looked back at the carriage, her eyes searching for more only to see her brother shake his head sadly.

“Your mother, she…” Her father looked away, ashamed of the words he couldn’t bring himself to say.

“She’s elected to stay home,” Brennan finished, his eyes averting Gwyn’s solemn stare. She glanced back at Cullen, her mouth forming a tight line as she sifted through the unwelcome thoughts in her head. Finally, she closed her eyes and breathed a deep sigh.

“It’s okay,” she murmured, shaking her head. “And Mariana?” It was a question she already knew the answer to.

“Mari is….she…” Brennan fought over the words until he gave in. “They didn’t want to come.”

“Brennan- that’s not fair,” their father spoke defensively until Brennan rolled his eyes.

“Are you kidding me? You heard them—‘We don’t know any Gwyneth’s’ _as if she never even existed_ ,” he scoffed. Gwyn’s fingers were knotting tirelessly as the two argued, her eyes closing until she took a step back from her family, from the words they were spilling. Immediately Cullen stepped forward, a gloved hand extended.

“Cullen Rutherford of Honnleath—Commander of the Inquisition’s forces,” he offered the men a small smile until it was Gwyn’s father who reluctantly shook his hand. “It’s an honor to meet Gwy—the Inquisitor’s family.” Her father eyed him for a moment before a smile grew on his face.

“I have heard a great many things of you, Commander Cullen,” Gwyn’s father gripped his hand tightly. “Petyr Trevelyan.”

“Yes, welcome to Skyhold, Bann Trevelyan.” Cullen motioned towards the castle behind him, which caused a low whistle to escape from Brennan.

“Wow…what a place,” he whispered. “So, this place is yours, Gwyn?”

“It’s the Inquisition’s. I mean, someday I hope I can have a place to call home. I hear the south Reach is nice,” her eyes darted to Cullen, who offered a small smile. Gwyn’s father looked between the two before wrapping an arm around Gwyn, hugging her closely.

“Commander Cullen, would you mind showing Brennan the training yard while my daughter and I have a moment to ourselves?” Gwyn’s father watched Cullen carefully. It was only until she nodded that Cullen gave a polite smile.

“Of course, it’d be an honor to show him what great strides the Inquisitor has made for our cause,” he gave a curt nod, bowing slightly in their direction. Brennan was eyeing Cullen suspiciously, his eyebrows raised with every word spoken. “Perhaps I can learn some childhood stories about her.”

“I’ve got a few,” Brennan admitted with a small laugh, causing Gwyn’s eyes to widen.

“Or you could just show him the grounds,” she warned.

“Where’s the fun in that?” Cullen joked.

* * *

 

Gwyn and her father walked in the gardens together, her arm wrapped around his and her head resting on his shoulder.

“I missed you,” she murmured. “I missed everyone. Why…why didn’t you come sooner?” Her father stopped, turning to face her. He looked so much older. His dark hair was greying, the lines on his face more pronounced. He held her hands in his, which seemed surreal to her. The last time this happened, it was coupled with holding her head, pressing kisses to her temple while she asked question after question. _Why? Don’t you love me? What did I do? Can I make it better?_ Now he looked tired to her, like he never slept at all since that day.

“We didn’t know where to start when we heard the Circle fell. I…Brennan was in Kirkwall for the longest time. I reached out to him, but even his connections were few and far between. No mention of your name for the longest time,” he voice was thick with tears as he shook his head. “There’s no excuse. Forgive me. I am so deeply sorry.” His face fell, his arms drawing her close to him. Tears filled her own eyes. She hadn’t exactly been reaching out to them either. Reaching out to them seemed like something that would only lead to pain. For years, she’d felt abandoned. For years, she’d read their letters behind stone walls and wondered if she would see them again, if they wanted to see her again. Reaching out meant opening herself up and allowing them inside again. If that meant the possibility of being tossed aside once more, she hadn’t wanted any part of that.

 “Everything they’re saying about you? Adamant Fortress? The Winter Palace? Is it true?” Her father’s voice still seemed foreign to her.

“I guess it depends what they’ve been saying about me,” she laughed through her tears. He took a step back from her, his hands holding her shoulders.

“I am so unbelievably proud of you, Gwyn. All along, since you were young, I’ve always told your mother how you were destined to do great things. She thought it was nonsense—you were a handful while Mariana was proper. Mariana was going to marry well, going to raise the Trevelyan name to greatness in her own way while you would probably still be playing in the mud with Brennan,” he chuckled at the memory that he was pulling from the depths of his mind. “You always did want to prove her wrong, even as a child. I—” He was quiet, trembling almost.

“It’s okay,” she murmured, holding his hands. As she welcomed the tears that ran down her face, he studied her face for a moment.

“That man…the Commander…he’s a nice man, isn’t he?” The words were chosen carefully as he spoke.

“Cullen? He’s…” The tips of Gwyn’s ears grew hot as she searched her father’s expression, hoping to gauge him somehow. It didn’t matter, she realized. The more she thought about it, about Cullen, she felt her face break into a smile. “He’s a good man,” she managed to get out.

“I know that look,” he murmured, grinning to himself.

“What?”

“You both look at each other when you think no one is looking. You smile as if you’re the only two people who exist. When he walked away, you watched until he was no longer in your eyesight. When I asked to speak with you, he looked to _you_. He worries about you.” He pursed his lips, his eyes studying her. “Am I close?” She was still smiling at him, yet the idea of sharing this part of her life with him seemed foreign to her.

“He’s a good man,” she repeated. She didn’t owe him any more than that. As the two settled onto a bench, her father pulled his cloak closer around him.

“I apologize if I’ve overstepped my bounds,” he said softly, avoiding her gaze. “I…I know this isn’t easy for any of us. I just…I simply wanted to be involved with your life, if you’ll allow it. Forgive me.” He stood up, his fingers knotting together. She watched the familiar movements of his wrists, how he fidgeted and twisted in front of her in the way she’d come to know all too well.

“I love him,” she whispered. She cleared her throat as he turned to face her. “Cullen, I mean. I’m in love with him. I don’t…I may not know exactly what’s in my future, but I know I want him to be there.”  A smile spread over her father’s face as he wrapped his arms around her.

“Does he…?” He asked softly, the question hanging in the air as tears rolled down his cheeks in waves. Gwyn nodded against him, causing his grasp to tighten around her. “I’m unbelievably happy for you, dear. That’s all I ever wanted for you and more.” This was different for her. It was one thing to read your father’s words of hope and love while you were left wondering what was real…and another to hear them for yourself, knowing there was truth within them. As the snow fell around them, Gwyn breathed a sigh of relief in knowing that, even though her family was still fumbling along, they were not completely broken.

“You’re staying for dinner, aren’t you?” Gwyn asked, leading him through the garden.

“If you’ll still have us, of course,” he murmured as she hooked arms with him.

“I’d like for you to get to know Cullen more…I think you’d really like him. Plus, I have some friends I’d like you to meet.”

“I’d like that,” he grinned. It was different, but it was a start.

* * *

 

Cullen walked with Brennan across the main courtyard, his arms folded behind his back.

“This place is amazing,” said Brennan incredulously as he looked around him. “How did you manage to find all these people?”

“Most are refugees we took in across Thedas, actually. It was the able-bodied that enlisted to become part of the Inquisition’s forces, but we’ve managed to find other positions for those who don’t want to or cannot fulfill a role within the actual military. Gwyn’s helped countless villages; it’s amazing, really. We’ve managed to recruit a large number of former Templars who’ve chosen to leave the Order as well as the remnants of the Order itself, led by Knight-Commander Barris—”

“Templars? Here? With my sister leading them?” Brennan seemed shocked as they approached the training yard.

“Yes,” Cullen shifted uneasily as he gripped the hilt of his sword. “Gwyn offered them an alliance after a demon of Envy infiltrated its ranks…” Brennan’s face fell the more Cullen spoke, causing him to raise an eyebrow. “Did you not know?” Brennan turned on his heel, his face pale.

“The youngest of the family is typically given to the Chantry to serve, did you know that?” His voice was quiet as he watched men hack away at the practice dummies. Confusion spread over Cullen’s face as he gazed at Brennan. “They’re either to join the Templar Order or become a brother within the Chantry,” Brennan continued. The more Cullen studied his face, realization began to wash over him.

            “Kirkwall…I remember now—you were there,” he murmured. Brennan leaned against the fence of the sparring ring, his head hanging low.

            “I thought if I became a Templar, they’d let me serve in Ostwick so-”

            “They don’t do that,” Cullen murmured, his eyes lowered.

            “Of course they don’t! I was twelve,” Brennan spat. “All I knew was that my sister- my _friend_ \- was taken from me and, to my mother, I was nothing but a reminder of that. No magical abilities to speak of, yet, simply because we looked alike, I was just as much as a blemish as Gwyn was.” Cullen gripped the handle of his sword tightly, the words causing his gut to sink.

            “I don’t remember you after…”

            “You mean after the Knight-Commander went crazy and the Champion saved the day? Of course you don’t, I hid like a coward when it was over. I knew there would be war between the Templars and mages…you’d have to be a fool to not see it burning like wildfire across Thedas. All I could think was that somewhere out there…my sister was in a tower, probably hating me for what I was without even knowing me. I didn’t want to be just another man in Templar armor to her and I didn’t want to see her as just another possible abomination. I would’ve never forgiven myself if—” He kicked the ground as he looked up at Cullen, a small smile on his face.

            “Where did you go?”

            “What d’you think? I tried to find her—searched almost bloody everywhere except exactly where she was,” he sighed deeply before leaning against the fence. “Then I went the only other place I could think of: home. I wasn’t necessarily welcomed by my mother, but my father made a deal for me to begin working with a blacksmith. I don’t know if you remember, but I was skilled with crafting within the Order…”

            “Have you…” The question was there on the tip of Cullen’s tongue, yet he couldn’t bring himself to ask. _Have you stopped taking lyrium_? Brennan looked away, shifting uncomfortably before walking in the direction they came from.

            “Do you love her even though she’s a mage?” Brennan called behind him, his strides long as he approached the stairs.

            “Excuse me?” Cullen stammered, his shoulders tensing as Brennan turned to face him. There was an uncomfortable silence as Brennan studied his face.

            “I remember the fear and distrust in which you sometimes spoke of mages—sometimes even around the Champion.” As Brennan spoke, Cullen felt his chest tightening. “So, I ask you again…my sister- do you love her even though she’s a mage? Or is this a fleeting moment?” The words weren’t spoken with disdain, but, rather, honesty and concern. Cullen gripped the hilt of his sword once more, his heart pounding as he sifted through the right words to say.

            “When I met your sister, I was struggling with some of those feelings. If I’m completely honest, the fact that she was mage sometimes terrified me, yet she’s remained understanding throughout. She respected boundaries I had, challenged me when I expressed questionable thoughts, and has made each day I wake that much more bearable.” Cullen felt his throat become dry as he paused to swallow. “There’s not a day Gwyn leaves here that my stomach doesn’t clench in fear that she won’t come back,” he uttered. Brennan nodded, a small smile on his face as he rubbed the back of his neck.

            “Not that she needs it…but you’ll take care of her?”

            “I like to think we take care of each other regardless,” he smiled.

            “You two getting along out here?” Gwyn called from the top of the stone steps.

            “I was just telling Commander Cullen here all about that time you cut Mariana’s hair,” Brennan winked.

            “You didn’t,” Gwyn gasped, her mouth hanging open. Brennan climbed the staircase and clapped a playful hand to her back.

            “No worries, sis. I didn’t embarrass you too much,” he smiled. He leaned into Gwyn, wrapping his arms around her as he lowered his voice, “He’s a nice one, sis. I like him.” He clambered up the rest of the steps to enter the main hall as Cullen joined Gwyn on the steps.

            “Did it go well?” She asked worriedly. He wrapped an arm around her, pulling her body close to him as she buried her arms within his cloak.

            “He worries about you,” Cullen murmured as Gwyn rested her head against him.

            “Almost everyone worries about me, it seems like,” she muttered, looking up at his face. His fingers ran over the length of the scar on her jawline until his thumb rested on her chin. He lifted it slightly in order to press his lips to hers. When he finally pulled away, he rested his chin on her head.

            “Would you want to go home after all this over? To Ostwick?” He asked, his fingers gently caressing her back.

            “To me, home is wherever you are. If that’s Ostwick, fine. If we stay here or go to Honnleath, and stay away from my mother, that’s great. Just as long as I’m with you.” Her fingers reached for his, weaving together as Gwyn flashed a toothy grin up at him.

            “And I, you,” he replied, pressing his lips to hers once more.


	2. "Yes."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen & Gwyn visit his family in Honnleath; Cullen surprises Gwyn by proposing to her!

            The weight of the ring in his pocket was almost too much for him as the two made the ride to Honnleath. Even though he had nervously touched the pocket of his robes time after time again, the closer the couple got to their destination, he felt himself reach in and touch it once more just to make sure it was still there.

            “Is everything okay?” Gwyn asked, turning her horse about face. Her head was tilted and a concerned frown washed over her face as she absentmindedly patted her horse’s neck. “I haven’t gotten us lost, have I? Why did you let me take the lead—I thought you said we were close.” Smiling, Cullen shook his head.

            “Just excited and a bit nervous, I suppose,” Cullen responded, trotting up next to her. She playfully pushed him as they moved up a hill, revealing a large clearing. There was a small curve opening up into a quaint village that took Gwyn’s breath away. In a way, it had reminded her slightly of Haven.

            “There it is,” he sighed, a smile growing as he could make out a small house surrounded by field outside of the town. _Home_. The thought seemed almost silly to him. For the longest time, the Circle was his home, then, Kirkwall…then Haven, now Skyhold. He glanced over at Gwyn, who was grinning.

            “It’s beautiful,” she murmured, her eyes scanning over every hill and valley. “Can I guess which is yours?” Her eyes sparkled and Cullen couldn’t help but stifle his laughter.

            “Give it your best shot,” he smirked, readjusting himself on his saddle. He’d talked of home plenty of times with her, mentioned the fields, the quiet that sometimes existed if his siblings allowed it. Finally, her fingers pointed in the direction of the cottage in the distance.

            “There. That’s it,” she grinned, glancing at him for approval. He nodded as the two began to continue their ride side-by-side. It was only until he could see her nervously fidgeting in her saddle that he spoke.

            “Are _you_ alright?” She nodded carefully before sighing.      

            “No. Maybe? I suppose I’m just nervous,” she decided.

            “Well, talk to me about it,” he encouraged. They were rounding the curve now; soon they would be entering the village itself.

            “I don’t exactly have a good track record with mothers or sisters,” she mumbled,

            “Well, not all mothers and sisters are the same—thank the Maker.” He frowned at the memory of Gwyn’s mother and sister showing up after Corypheus’ defeat. How they had expected something from her, how they had called Gwyn ungrateful, how they had turned their noses up at Cullen when he tried to step in. He hadn’t told Gwyn, but when he had “escorted” them from Skyhold, asking that they not return, they had spat at him that she was nothing but a blemish to their name, an abomination that would bring ruin to all things around her. It had been the exact opposite of meeting Gwyn’s father and twin brother. It was almost surreal that they were all a part of the same family.

“My family wouldn’t…they would never—they wouldn’t reject you unless they had good reason,” He reached for the hand that was resting on the horn of her saddle, his thumb gently caressing her skin. “Everything is going to be fine.” As the two rode into the village, Cullen smiled as he took in the familiarity of what was left of his town. That strange statue in the middle of the square was gone, but if he could pinpoint any changes, it was that Honnleath looked like it might have _grown_.

It wasn’t long before he realized Gwyn had climbed down from her horse and was chattering with some local children. She was smiling as she lifted child after child, allowing them to pat her horse’s mane. Gwyn was always good with children. She was like a magnet to them, it seemed like. Any refugees she met in the Hinterlands had climbed all over her, asked her questions about magic, about her anchor. Cullen admired the ease with which she spoke to them patiently. He watched as she was bending down to their level, laughing as they squealed when they realized who she was. Some returned to their respective parents except a lone, little girl who was hugging her tightly. Gwyn pulled something from her knapsack and handed it to her, smiling as the girl hugged her once more. Cullen approached her, an amused smile on his lips as he lowered himself from his horse.

“What was that all about?” Gwyn wiped her hands off on her breeches before grabbing a hold of her horse’s bridle.

“Her father…he was- he was one the men who came with me to the Valley,” she was quiet as she tightened her bag.

“I didn’t…I don’t think I knew him,” Cullen frowned as he realized he hadn’t gotten to know the late recruits as much as he would’ve like to. He prided himself on knowing the soldiers that were under his command; it seemed strange that he wouldn’t know a man from his birthplace. Unfortunately, the larger the Inquisition got, the harder it had become for him to do so.

“I didn’t know him well either, if that’s any consolation. I just- I found something of his in the rubble after…and I found out he was from Honnleath. Anyway, I just thought if I found his family that they might want it,” she sighed as she motioned towards the path on the hill. “It’s that way, right?” He watched the little girl she had hugged run towards a cottage on the edge of the marketplace. While the buildings in the square had, for the most part, remained the same, it was the people that gave him pause. He could barely recognize the people that passed- the parents who had to practically drag their children away from a smiling Gwyn, or the shopkeepers selling their wares in the street. He worried for a moment that perhaps too much time had passed, that maybe too much had changed when he felt Gwyn’s hand grab ahold of his.

“C’mere,” she pulled him close, one of her hands smoothing the collar of his shirt. Her fingertips danced over the material of his shirt, ignoring his cloak completely. She pressed her forehead to his, her blue eyes looking up at him. “Promise they won’t hate me?” She was chewing on her bottom lip when Cullen took both of her hands and kissed them gently.

“Promise,” he smiled against her fingers, his lips still brushing them as he spoke. “They haven’t even met you yet, and I’m absolutely positive they’ll adore you.”

            When they approached the house, Cullen secured the horses within a small pasture as Gwyn studied the field. It was filled with wildflowers and straw that moved with each breath of wind that came through. For a moment, she found herself taking a step forward—her fingers brushing against the straw and her eyes closed as she took in a breath. Feeling eyes on her, she turned around to see Cullen watching her, a grin breaking on his face.

            “It’s beautiful,” she breathed, smiling. She bent down to pick up a blue and purple flower, sniffing it before holding it out to Cullen. “I think I love it here already.” He took the flower from her, recognizing the petals and its scent before it even reached his nose.

            “They call these ‘cupid’s dart.’ My mother planted them when I was a boy, they’re some of her favorites,” he carefully placed the flower behind her ear, tucking wisps of hair that had escaped from her braid with it.

            “I thought I heard someone talking about me,” a voice rang out excitedly behind them. Cullen turned to see his mother. Her curly blonde hair had greyed extensively, but she wore it pulled back in a simple bun just as she had when he was a child. Her brown eyes greeted him warmly as she pulled him into a deep hug. “I’ve missed you.” It was a heartfelt whisper that caused Cullen’s eyes to well up with tears.

            “I missed you too,” he murmured in her ear, hugging her tightly. It’d been a long time, _too_ long.

            “Is that my baby brother I hear out there?” There was movement as another woman appeared in the doorway, her long, blonde hair pulled in a tight braid down her back. Her hand covered her mouth as she stared at Cullen, her feet stumbling as she slowly approached him. Gwyn watched the woman’s face contort into this aching joy that caused tears to stream down her face as she wrapped her arms around Cullen. She sobbed openly and Gwyn couldn’t help but cry at the sight herself.

            “You stupid, precious fool, I could kiss and kill you at the same time,” the woman muttered as she pressed a kiss to his cheek. “You could’ve been dead this whole time. Waiting to write your own sister until it suited you—sometimes I don’t believe you!” She broke into a small laugh as he hugged her even tighter.

            “I love you too, Mia,” he laughed. Gwyn shifted awkwardly on her heels, watching Cullen’s face carefully as he asked about the rest of the family.

“Father’s resting; he hasn’t been feeling well lately. Laurel’s keeping an eye on the food and the kids inside while Crispin and Alain are working—Crispin’s actually working with Alain as the blacksmith in town now. Did I tell you that yet? Anyway, he should be returning sometime soon. I can’t wait for you to get to know Alain,” Mia told him, smiling. She was talking so quickly that Gwyn was still trying to dissect the names that she had mentioned. Laurel and Crispin were Cullen’s other siblings; Laurel was the youngest.  Mia had gotten married to Alain…and, if Gwyn remembered correctly, they had two children. Cullen turned to Gwyn, interrupting her thoughts as he held his hand out. She joined his side, resisting the shaking feeling that was filling her entire body.

“I know you’ve heard so much already, but I’d like you to meet Gwyneth Trevelyan, the leader of the Inquisition.” He held her hand tightly, offering a reassuring smile in her direction.

“It’s Gwyn though, isn’t it?” His mother asked, a smile on her lips as she took a step towards her. Gwyn nodded carefully, her fingers squeezing Cullen’s hand.

“She’s much prettier than what you said in your letter,” a voice from the doorway called, causing heat to rise in Gwyn’s cheeks. A young lady with light brown curly hair was grinning in Cullen’s direction.

“That would be my younger sister, Laurel,” Cullen grinned. The girl took off at a run in his direction and he responded by lifting her into his arms, hugging her tightly. Two small children ran over to Mia, standing sheepishly at her side. Meanwhile, Cullen’s mother stood in front of Gwyn, smiling.

“He speaks very highly of you, you know,” she spoke softly, low enough so that Cullen wouldn’t hear her as he chattered endlessly with Laurel. Eventually the two children approached Laurel slowly and Gwyn watched as Cullen lowered himself to their level. Mia observed Gwyn carefully, her amber eyes scanning her up and down until she took her in her arms.

 _“Thank you_ ,” she breathed. Gwyn was frozen as Mia held her tightly. “I’ve never seen or heard him so happy, so _healthy_. Thank you.” When Mia released her, Gwyn realized Mia’s eyes were filled with tears.

“I didn’t—” Gwyn stammered, wanting to fix whatever was wrong. Mia waved her off, a small laugh escaping her.

“Cullen has,” his mother started, watching him with Laurel and the children carefully. “He hasn’t had an easy life—ever. His letters became shorter as time went on until they stopped completely. It was no secret that he was troubled. Mia tried for years to talk to him, but he could never bring himself to talk about it. Now, he writes more often than ever. He writes of _you_ , and he sounds the happiest he’s ever been. I don’t-I don’t want to dismiss the strides he’s made on his own, but I think I’d be lying if I thought you didn’t have something to do with it too.”

Suddenly Mia reached for Gwyn’s hands, studying them carefully. The mark still existed on her left hand, even after Corypheus’s undoing. Mia’s eyes met Gwyn’s, soft and caring.

“You’re the only woman he’s ever mentioned to any of us. He…” she smiled at the sight of Cullen grinning as he walked towards them. “He loves you,” she shrugged. Gwyn smiled as Mia hugged her tightly again. “I’m glad he decided to bring you here.”

“Thank you,” Gwyn smiled warmly, returning the embrace.

“C’mon everyone, let’s go inside before dinner gets cold. Crispin better be on his way,” his mother muttered, ushering everyone to the house. She gave a quick wink in Gwyn’s direction as she stepped through the threshold.

* * *

 

Dinner was odd to Gwyn. Despite the friendships she made in the Inquisition, she still wasn’t used to being surrounded by family. When she watched Cullen eat normally and laugh as he shared story after story, she couldn’t help but feel like he’d lost ten years simply by being his family’s presence.  Every so often, he’d reach for her hand and give it a reassuring squeeze. He’d realized she hadn’t been saying much, that she’d only been pushing and pecking at her food. It wasn’t long before Alain pressed a kiss to Mia’s forehead and had the kids say goodnight before walking home. Seeing his chance, Cullen leaned over as Mia, Crispin, and Laurel stood to clear the table, his eyes consciously aware of Gwyn’s fingers fidgeting below the table.

“What’s wrong?” He wasn’t upset, but concern washed over his face as he held her hands in his. She chewed her lip until she realized Cullen’s mother had reentered the room.

“Could I—forgive me, but I was wondering if I could speak to Cullen for a moment,” she asked, a small smile on her face as she supported herself in the door frame. Gwyn stood, gathering the dirty dishes in front of her hurriedly.

“Right. Of course. We’ll talk later! I’ll…I’ll help Mia clean up,” she offered, nodding over at Cullen and disappearing into the kitchen before he could argue. His mother wrapped her shawl around herself before offering her arm to him.

“Walk with me,” she smiled. They walked in silence for some time, both admiring the dusk falling over the sky until Cullen realized the path they were on. The one he’d taken so many times before when his sibling’s voices were far too much for the thoughts in his head.

“I brought her here, you know,” Cullen found himself saying, watching the dock appear on the horizon. His mother wasn’t saying anything, which only made Cullen fear the worst. “I think she’s just nervous. Her mother and sister recently came to Skyhold and it was an absolute disaster. Aside from the Inquisition, this is the most normal family she’s really been around…” The words were falling out of his mouth left and right, his lips trying to defend whatever thoughts his mother might be having.

“Gwyn’s lovely,” she interrupted, giving Cullen’s arm a gentle squeeze. Cullen breathed a sigh of relief as his mother paused, drawing her shawl closer around her. “I used to watch you come out here when you were little, you know. I remember Mia shouting, pretending she was some kind of queen ruling her kingdom— Laurel and Crispin, her loyal subjects…then there was you. Shortly after they’d start playing, I would see you run out here. I’d be frantically following after you, worrying about where you’d run off to, only to find you with your feet dangling off the dock.”  She was laughing at the distant memory until she turned to face him.

“There were times where I wished you didn’t leave. There were moments where I’m sure you know I argued with your father about trying to get you back, but I was wrong. It was what you wanted; it was all you talked about. I just wanted to be able to see my son grow up into a fine man, but you’ve managed to do that on your own. I…I wish I could have been a part of that more, but I am so, so proud of you.” She was wiping her face with her shawl until Cullen wrapped his arms around her.

“Thank you,” he murmured against her. He’d always known his mother struggled with his leaving the most. The way she had clung to him when the Templars came to take him, the way she heaved great sobs into his body and repeatedly told him that she loved him. _Be a brave, good boy, and become a great young man_. That was the last thing he remembered her whispering in his ears before he left.

“One thing, however. I know you’ll tell me not to pry-” she began, her tone of voice mirroring one he had recognized as when he had failed to complete one of his chores. _The ring_.

“I was planning on doing it here in Honnleath, actually. I mean, the original plan was to do it the night she came back from the Valley…then her mother came unexpectedly. It was a mess and it just seemed like the wrong time. I didn’t want to feel like I was trying to salvage something just because she was upset, I—” he sighed, “I just wanted it to be romantic, if possible.” His mother hooked her arm through his and guided him back towards the cottage.

“C’mon. She’s probably being pestered to death by Mia. We should probably rescue her,” the two walked together as the sun went down, casting shades of bright orange and reds across the sky.

* * *

 

Gwyn helped Mia at the wash bin, using a nearby cloth to wipe the plates off.

“There’s really no need, Gwyn. Laurel and I can get this on our own. You’re a guest, after all,” Mia offered, holding her hand out for the plate in Gwyn’s hands. Carefully, Gwyn continued to scrub at the dish until Mia smiled, working at the silverware in her clutches.

“I don’t mind it, really. At the Circle in Ostwick, I sometimes helped out in the kitchens. I liked watching the cooking and baking—not that I’m any good at it. I just thought it made it seem like more of a home.” The longer Gwyn was in Mia’s presence, the easier it felt for her speak. Her hands were already at work at the dishes in front of her, there was no need to fidget, to fumble over sentences.

“I imagine there was a lot to learn there,” Mia smiled, her voice quiet as she reached for the plates Gwyn had dried to place them in their proper storage.

“Of course, I was one of the lucky mages, I think. I mean, all Circles are not without their own problems—even Ostwick had…instances,” she chewed her lip at the thought of it, then shook the memory away. “I just…I know other Circles could be awful. I mean, I’m sure Cullen’s told you of—” She paused to glance over at Mia, who was standing by the counter, her eyes shut. Laurel looked confused, but continued to work at the silverware in her hands. Gwyn’s face fell as she lowered the dish back into the bin.

“Laurel, could you go check on father?” Mia’s voice was quiet as she rested a hand on the countertop. Immediately Laurel disappeared into a different room, sighing.

“I…I didn’t—forgive me, I shouldn’t have…” Gwyn took a step back, realizing she’d said too much.

“I’ve…heard things—never from him, mind you. But, bits and pieces. I never asked him. He…” Mia’s face paled as she looked up over at Gwyn. “He’s never told us everything, but I knew he wasn’t happy. I knew he wasn’t…it wasn’t _him_. I know you didn’t know him then, but he _changed_ so much. I don’t…I wish I could’ve been there for him more? You know? I was his big sister and I felt like I had allowed something to rip him apart. So I wrote him—constantly. Every day, if I could manage it. I just wanted him to know I was there, but Maker knows that man made it difficult,” she forced a laugh, then looked over at Gwyn. Her brown eyes were filled with tears, rolling down her cheeks until Gwyn didn’t know what else to do but wrap her small frame around her. She patted the crown of Mia’s blonde head, trying her best to hold in tears.

“You’re a good sister. A great one that I wish I had, if I’m being honest. I—I even _have_ a sister, but she won’t look at me, let alone write me. Cullen knows you love and care for him, Mia. He talks about you endlessly. What happened to Cullen, whatever you know of it…it will always be a part of him. It will prickle in the back of his mind until it’s heard and he may have to deal with it every day, but what you’ve done is more than enough. Your family gives him love, support…that’s incredibly important. You have never once let him down.” Gwyn took Mia’s hands, smiling as she gave them a gentle squeeze. A smile grew on Mia’s face as she gave Gwyn another hug.

“Thank you,” she spluttered. Mia released her as Gwyn returned to the wash bin. “Cullen is…he is very lucky to have found you.” Mia’s words were quiet, sincere as the two stood together at the wash bin, their pruned hands working on the few dishes left.

“You haven’t been prying too much, Mia?” Cullen entered into the kitchen, a smile on his lips as he leaned against the doorframe.

“Wouldn’t you like to know, brother?” A smirk played on Mia’s lips as she offered a wink in Gwyn’s direction.

“We’re getting along quite well,” Gwyn reassured him. Cullen’s mother moved to take the dry dishes from Gwyn, her eyes warm.

“I’ll take these, you go ahead and spend some time with Cullen,” she smiled.

“It’s no trouble, really,” Gwyn told her only to have Mia take the cloth from her hands.

“You go on, we’ll talk more tomorrow.”

“You sure?” Gwyn hesitantly walked towards Cullen only to have him grab her hand.

“It’s fine. Come, there’s something I want to show you.” No sooner was he leading her out the door and into the field. His hands carefully covered her eyes as she stumbled in front of him, laughing slightly.

“I feel ridiculous,” she mumbled as he guided her. He was careful with each step. _Step over this, now small steps. Just wait._ She listened to his voice, smiling at every word until Cullen pressed his lips to her cheek.

“I’m going to step away. Keep your eyes closed until I say so. Promise?” She could practically hear the giddy smile that was on his lips. “I didn’t hear you,” he whispered, his breath close to her face.

“Okay, I promise!” She laughed, feeling his fingers leave her eyes. She kept them closed tightly until she found herself hugging her body with her arms. “Are you ready yet?” She tried to listen to the elements, but could only feel a slight breeze against her face.

“Who’s the impatient one now?” Cullen chuckled—he was some feet away from her. He was in front of her, at least, she could tell. Her tongue darted in and out of her mouth, eliciting another laugh from him as she heard more movement. “Okay….open them.”

Slowly, her eyes fluttered open to a view of the night’s sky. She gasped at the view of stars filling the blackness, a swirl of bright light that Gwyn had never seen before. Her gaze moved to Cullen, who was standing not far from her in the field beneath the branches of a large tree, a small bouquet of cupid dart in his hand. Her face twisted in bemusement as she took a step towards him, a smile growing.

“What…what is all this?” She laughed, glancing up once more at the sky through the branches of the trees. She took the bouquet in her hands, taking in the scent of the blue flowers as she turned her back to him to get a better look at the stars. “Can’t get a view like this at Skyhold,” she murmured, her eyes studying the mountains in the distance. When she looked down the hill, she could see the familiar sight of the dock. The moonlight and the stars were shining against the water, casting a bright reflection that seemed to sparkle just from where she was standing.

“Thank you, this is just…absolutely amazing,” she breathed in awe. She turned round to face Cullen once more, only to see him giving her a strange smile. He reached for her hands, his thumbs running over the tops of them, then the knuckles. “What’s going on?” A puzzled expression washed over her face as she studied his, trying to gauge whatever thoughts were running through his mind. Finally Cullen took a deep breath and brought her fingers to his lips. They brushed against her knuckles gently until he brought his gaze back to her eyes.

“I’ve been trying to find of the right moment to do this, but the more I thought about it, I have come to the conclusion that our lives have never had a ‘right’ moment. We didn’t expect to find ourselves in the Inquisition, and we never once expected to find each other,” Gwyn smiled at him as he spoke, her eyes watching his lips form each word—the scar scrunching slightly as the corners of lips turned upwards. He took another breath, closing his eyes briefly before a low chuckle escaped his throat.

            “I never thought I would find someone who accepted me despite the wrong I might have done, despite my…struggles. I never thought I could be deserving of a love so…” he laughed nervously, his eyes darting away for a second before Gwyn squeezed his hand. “You…you manage to see into parts of me I sometimes forget exist. You…Maker, I’m not very good at this,” he managed to stammer out as he reached into his pocket. Slowly Cullen bent to his knee, his fingers holding his mother’s ring. Gwyn stared at the silver band, her eyes studying the simple, small jewel on top as her hands covered her mouth.

            “I…you? Is this really happening?” She managed to stammer out, her grin breaking out beneath her fingers. Cullen looked up at her, nodding as she made some kind of noise he could only describe as a loud squeak. Finally she gasped out a: “YES.”

Tears were streaming down her face as she began laughing and nodding her head repeatedly. Her elation was contagious; Cullen was grinning as he slipped the band onto her finger, and his lips brushed against her hand once more. She cupped his face with her hands, bringing him to his feet as her lips met his. In one swift movement, he lifted her feet off the ground and Gwyn gripped the bouquet of flowers in her hands tightly as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

            “I love you,” he murmured in between kisses. She buried her face in his neck, alternating between nuzzling his bare skin and the coarse hairs of his stubble.

            “I love you too,” she laughed into his ears, causing his heart to pound wildly.

            “Can you say that bit from before again,” he requested, chuckling as he planted a kiss on her cheek.  

            “You mean ‘yes’?” He nodded against her neck, his lips hovering over the exposed skin there. She laughed and took his face in her hands once more, her blue eyes practically twinkling as she met his gaze. “Yes, I will marry you.” He grinned as their lips met once more.

            The couple sat together under the tree, Gwyn resting the lap of Cullen as they gazed up at the night’s sky in complete bliss. Every now and then, they’d glance at each other, sharing smiles until Gwyn sighed.

            “How much do you think Josephine will fight me on us _not_ having a large, public wedding?”

            “I don’t think I want to be there for that conversation,” Cullen laughed, pressing a kiss to Gwyn’s head.

            “I’ll let her down gently.” Gwyn’s fingers lazily traced lines up and down the length of Cullen’s forearm until he tipped her head back to kiss her forehead, her eyelashes, her nose…

            “Good,” he murmured, his lips connecting to hers again. In the silence, their fingers interlocked and he couldn’t help but run his thumb over the silver band on her finger. Smiling to himself, he couldn’t shake the weight of those three letters and the value they meant to him. Simple, yet they spoke volumes. You are worthy. You deserve love. You deserve me. _Yes._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, hi- hello!  
> This took me so much longer than I would've liked to write-- I've been having a bit of a rough week, which has involved a lot of stress and a LOT of self-doubt (particularly about my writing). But, honestly, I'm really proud of how this turned out & I hope you all enjoyed it too.  
> I appreciate all the kudos, but I particularly enjoy reading all of your comments! They're absolutely wonderful and definitely keep my spirits high when I've had a week like this one. 
> 
> As always, feel free to send me requests! I tend to post a lot of prompts on tumblr as well (I think I've posted like three or four on there that I haven't put up here yet), but if you'd like to send me something there- you're more than welcome to! (www.commander-cullywully.tumblr.com) Thank you guys! Cheers! -A

**Author's Note:**

> Yeeeeeaaaah, I know parts of it are a bit cheesy/cliche. Whoops.  
> And I'm not so sure about the title, but-meh. 
> 
> As always let me know what you think! If you have advice, concerns, or requests for something I should consider writing- PLEASE tell me. I love hearing back from you guys. It means the world to me. Cheers!  
> -A


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